


Get Your Fill

by elounarry



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fisting, Literally just fisting, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, very explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 07:14:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23347531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elounarry/pseuds/elounarry
Summary: Literally just 2.5k words of Shiro fisting Keith and them loving each other. Can't sum it up better than that.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 66





	Get Your Fill

**Author's Note:**

> I have had this in my word doc for over a year now which seems unreasonable now that I wrote a majority of this story within the last 24 hours. But apparently it can take up to a year for the inspiration to hit. Hope you all enjoy this as much as I did! Not enough Keith getting fisted fic

There’s only one lamp that illuminates the room in soft amber lighting. Shiro has one foot on the floor, the other bent at the knee to kneel on the bed. In front of him Keith is sprawled out on his back, lit only by the lamp. It luminates him in a soft sunset yellow, the hue washing over his body and under his chin, certain angles lit up and features contrasted sharply. Keith’s eyes are closed, brows dipped, and mouth parted as silent breathes slip through his lips. Shiro knows he’s straining, concentrating. He can see it in the rise and fall of his bare chest, abdomen pulled taut and defining the edges of his muscles. It’s easy for Shiro to be distracted by the small details of Keith’s body, he’s mapped it out more times than he can count, but tonight he uses those details to read his body like a finely tuned instrument. Every shake, every intake of breath, every sound is a key for Shiro to use and unlock the next level.

The silence is broken by a small chirp from Keith, mouth formed in an O shape as his body gives a slight jerk.

“Are you okay?” Shiro asks, raising his eyes to Keith’s face whose own eyes are still closed in concentration.

“Yeah…” Keith groans out.

Shiro holds his position for a moment before trialing his eyes down to the source of Keith’s discomfort. His left hand is almost entirely consumed by Keith’s stretched out ass, four fingers intertwined together as he feels around the tight, velvet walls. He has all the way up to the juncture of his thumb inside, turning his hand in small rotations and focusing on the feel of the walls moving over his slick, lubed knuckles. Keith keens at this, struggling to keep his body from bucking up and jostling Shiro’s hand around. His cock stands at attention, flushed and red from the shiny cock ring fit into place.

“Just relax, baby,” Shiro soothes as he runs his prosthetic over the inside of Keith’s thigh.

Keith’s hands clench at the towel laid out underneath him, urging his body to relax and accept the sizable intrusion. Every stretch and pull of Shiro’s hand sends pulses through his whole body, willing every muscle to revolt and tighten up. It’s a sensitive balance Keith has figured out. Stuck between the ache of being so full and the shock of something so large filling him up, he’s learned to keep his breathing paced and to not let eagerness override his logic. It’s hard though, watching the bulk of Shiro between his legs and the thickness of his hand knowing how deep it is inside him, and thinking about how much deeper it can go.

Shiro’s fingers move deftly along his walls, slow and calculated in their movements as Shiro carefully works him open. There’s still a soreness lingering from a few days ago when him and Shiro had been in this exact position. The only difference now is Shiro hasn’t tried to add his thumb yet, which had prompted Keith to use their safe word and end it early. Shiro worried if Keith’s determination to do this was going to do more harm than good, but Keith had been persuasive with his words and body and Shiro would be lying if he said he didn’t want to see this play out.

Keith’s gravelly groan has Shiro cooing and consoling him, using his hand to keep Keith anchored and present. Keith sighs as cool lube touches his stretched-out ass.

“Alright, I’m putting my thumb in. Are you ready?” Shiro asks.

Keith nods. “Yeah.”

Shiro angles his thumb and inserts up to his nail, running it along the inner edge and loosening up the tight muscle. Keith’s unrestrained with is moans and groans. He begins to inhale deeply then releases it as Shiro inserts his hand further, thumb adding more girth and pressure within him. Keith lets out a clear whine as heat moves through his stomach to the tips of fingers. It’s a give and take between the pain and pleasure. Sometimes one will override the other leaving Keith panting and wanting more. Like now. Shiro’s so close. So close to having his entire hand inside Keith and just that thought alone has Keith clenching down, wanting to draw him in.

“Careful, baby. I need to go slow,” Shiro’s reminds him, voice warm and inviting.

“More,” Keith responds, only capable of being focused on the incredible stretch inside him. Shiro rotates his hand, touching and stretching every inch he can and pushing forward. He watches with interest as Keith’s hole molds to the lines of his hand. He pulls his hand out, teasing the entrance with the tips of his fingers and smiles at the way Keith whines at the loss of contact. He pushes back in as far as his hand will go, wriggling his hand and pushing against the force of Keith’s muscles. Keith breath picks up as he starts panting from the intensity of it. It’s almost there—

And then it’s gone. The groan he lets out when Shiro pulls his hand out is loud and drawn out, frustration clear in his timbre.

“Shiro…” Keith whines. His heels drag along the comforter, bunching up the towel, antsy and squirming, and Shiro wraps his free hand around one of his ankles, holding it firmly in place.

“Keith, you can’t move too much. I know you want it, but I need to be careful.” Shiro’s so earnest in what Keith would loosely call a reprimand that he can’t help when “boy scout” slips through his lips. It brings a smile to Shiro’s face.

“I’ve never been a boy scout, thank you,” he says. He begins to work his hand into Keith, muscles now looser and more plaint than before, easily accepting the girth of Shiro’s hand. Keith inhales as the hand breaches him, stopping only as Keith’s muscles give resistance yet again. Keith evens out his breathing, relaxing into his breaths and pushing any aching discomfit to the back of his mind. Slowly, he feels his muscles relax. Slowly, Shiro’s hand pushes further in, reaching the point where they stopped last time. Knuckles rest against the stretched-out rim of Keith’s ass, the last hurdle before the entirety of Shiro’s fist will fit. 

Waves of heat wash over Keith’s chest, up to his neck, and then his face, bringing out one of the brightest flushes Shiro has seen on him. There’s a light sheen of sweat over those areas as well, but Shiro knows he doesn’t look much better. Focus and concentration and pure arousal as left him sweaty and almost fighting a war within himself. His animalistic side wants to see just how much Keith can take and how hard he can give it to him, but his rational side knows he needs to use caution and be in control of himself at all times, the danger of hurting Keith real and hovering. But Keith is far from hurt.

Keith sighs as cool lube is drizzled over where hand and hole meet. A wave of relief washes over his heated body just at that minimal contact, but it doesn’t take long for the friction Shiro’s creating to warm him up all over again. The slide is smoother as Shiro works it over his hand and the red rim of Keith’s ass, keeping his arm moving in slow, circular motions. He has the urge to switch arms and give his human one a break, feeling the cramp and pull in his shoulder, but metal in tender places seems less than ideal, no matter how much Keith normally loves to use his metal arm. So he pushes through it.

Shiro turns his wrist over, using every turn and every bit of lube to ease his hand further in to the now accepting muscles. Every edge of Shiro’s knuckles has Keith moaning in intangible sounds, forcing air out of his lungs as hot desire spreads through his whole body. Shiro’s now pushing into his ass, intent clear and strong, and with one final turn of his wrist, Shiro’s knuckles pop inside with a startling stretch that has Keith yelling out. The stretch is both painful and unbelievably pleasurable, nerves not knowing what signals to send out. Another layer of sweat covers Keith as he loudly pants through the intrusion, his hole having latched onto Shiro’s hand and pulling it down to the wrist.

“Oh, wow. Keep breathing, baby. Stay relaxed.” Shiro ran a soothing hand up Keith’s abdomen, tremors and heavy breathing expanding Keith’s body. Shiro’s rock hard as he takes in the divine sight of Keith’s hole stretched wide around his hand, red and wet with a strong grip.

“How are you feeling?”

“So good…” Keith whispers, throat raw from his sounds and undulating breaths. His eyes are scrunched close in concentration, trying to relax around the massive hand reaching inside him, resisting the urge to push Shiro out while simultaneously wanting to pull him in. Shiro doesn’t have to be moving for his hand to push on Keith’s prostate, the sensation itself almost tipping Keith over the edge, forcing him to come untouched.

Shiro lingers for another moment before he begins to pull his hand out, watching in earnest as Keith’s ass pulls on his hand and widens with the movement. Keith’s giving off high pitched moans as Shiro reaches the widest point, and with ease and precision, slips the rest of his hand out. They both release a heavy breath, Shiro not aware he was holding his in anticipation. Wrecked would hardly describe how Keith looked, covered in sweat with red blotches spanning over his fair features, his hole used and clenching around air. Every instinct in Shiro is yelling at him to fill it, whether it was with his own cock or hand again, he didn’t care.

“Shiro please…” Keith groans, eyes glazed over and begging. Shiro almost loses himself to his instinct in that moment, the instinct to grab Keith by his ankles and have his way with him, leaving Keith a whiney, strung out mess. Only through the judicious voice in his head telling him it wasn’t about him or what he wanted, did he calm his senses, coming back into focus and seeing Keith waiting on him, expectant.

Shiro lathers his hand in more lube and breaches Keith once again, this time he slips in far easier, needing less push to break through the now loosened ring of muscle. There’s only some resistance as Shiro gets his knuckles in there, Keith groaning with each widened edge. Keith can feel every inch of Shiro’s hand, how far in his fingers reach and when they move, the soft pads of his fingertips sliding along his walls. He’s stuffed wide and full in ways he only fantasied about but was too scared to approach until he knew he could trust someone. There’s many things Keith would only entrust to Shiro, Keith’s euphoric this is one of them. 

Keith looks dwarfed with Shiro’s thick arm sticking out of him, now moving in slow thrusts. Every push and pull has Keith sucking in shaky breath after shaky breath, moans and whines slipping in when Shiro’s hand would pull on the rim or shift further in. Shiro doesn’t go too much deeper, catching every wince on Keith’s face when Shiro tries for more, the resistance even stronger.

There’s blunt movement in Keith and a shift that has Keith’s toes curling and hands clutching at the comforter. Shiro’s pulled his fingers into a fist, fingers no longer guiding the path and forcing Keith to accept the blunt end.

“Oh, yeah,” Keith moans out, panting when the fist stretches his rim to the furthest point then pulling out entirely. Only when he’s empty does Keith feel like he can a take a breath to full capacity, but then the hand is back again, this time no fingers to ease in, just the mounds of Shiro’s knuckles pushing and twisting their way into his hole. It forces his ass to stretch wider faster, but he opens up for it, accepting it after some slight resistance and groaning with every inch he takes. Every brush over his prostate sends jolts of electricity through Keith, the repeated motions making him greedy and wanting to take more, knowing he’s getting so loose. Then Shiro’s picking up the pace that has Keith throwing his head back and attempting to lift his hips, only Shiro’s metal arm keeping him in place. He never pulls out enough to remove his hand, only out to his knuckles then back in over and over again. Keith yells through the gentle assault as he’s widened repeatedly, the push and pull on his insides becoming too much to take.

“Sh-Shiro I-I wanna c-come,” Keith barely gets out. His cock’s been drooling the whole time, somehow even more flushed and wanting attention than before. Shiro’s keeps the pace of his hand while his metal one gathers lube up and places it on the cock ring, sliding the ring off Keith’s cock and tossing it to the side. Shiro only has to give him a few more tugs before heat rushes through his body and Keith is wailing through his orgasm, shooting his load up to his collarbone. Every nerve of his lights up, finger and toes tingling in response, hole rapidly clamping down on the immovable object. His walls tighten on Shiro’s hand almost painfully, the movement pulling him further in the narrow hole. Before he pulls out, Shiro adjusts himself on the bed, both his knees set wide between Keith’s legs and begins pumping furiously at his own cock. The look of Keith spread out and exhausted before him, the feeling of his hand being nestled inside the warmth of Keith sends waves of heat through his pent-up desire, forcing the release of his orgasm and coming over Keith’s stomach.

Once Keith’s breaths level out, Shiro steps back off the bed and tenderly begins his attempt to remove his hand from the cavity, mesmerized as Keith continues to clench down.

“Come on, baby. You gotta let me go.”

Keith can only respond with a breathy laugh. Shiro feels the muscles relaxing, then the release of this hand as cool air washes over him. He wipes his hands on the towel under Keith’s hips then uses his fingertips to catch the stretched edges of Keith’s hole and pull it open. Keith groans at the motion but doesn’t stop it. Shiro’s taken by the now fluttering hole and how deep he opened Keith up, hoping at some point they can do this again. Maybe with toys. Maybe with something bigger.

Shiro removes his fingers and that’s when Keith pushes himself up with his elbows, hand stretched out in invitation. Shiro fallows and leans into the hand that cups his jaw, directing him into a kiss. It’s deep and sweet and has Shiro hovering over Keith, connecting his back to bed. He doesn’t care that he’s touching the mess mixed on Keith’s stomach, being close and feeling him is all he needs. And then Keith groans.

“Feeling sore,” Shiro guesses.

“Yeah, it’s starting to ache.”

“Let’s get you cleaned up then.”

Keith sighs contently as he watches Shiro clean up the supplies, the ache settling in places he didn’t know could ache. But as long as Shiro’s the one doing it, he doesn’t mind. Thy were definitely doing this again.


End file.
